


Come Quell Your Siren's Hunger

by HDHale, WolfGeralt



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, Breeding, Creature Fic, Dubious Consent, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Gender Fuckery, Geralt is seduced by Jaskier's siren song, Hypnotism, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Implied Mpreg, Intersex, Intersex Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier does not have a penis and terminology is left incredibly neutral, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Nonbinary Character, Power Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Rape/Non-con Elements, Siren Jaskier | Dandelion, Transformation, merman Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22738537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDHale/pseuds/HDHale, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfGeralt/pseuds/WolfGeralt
Summary: Geralt pulls a siren in heat from the lake and falls his prey. A siren Jaskier AU written for Geraskier Week.The siren’s tail melts away in a viscous trail, the slender creature gasping as the gashes-gills, Geralt realises- along his neck and lower ribs seal, and he starts to fill his lungs by panting through his open, desperate mouth. His gaze is stormy as the sea he belongs to, which begs the question of how the boy- how could a creature so fair and pure be amonster?- came to be at the bottom of a lake?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 48
Kudos: 784





	Come Quell Your Siren's Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Geraskier Week 2020, for the prompt 'Monster Hunting'.
> 
> Accompanied by this gifset on my Tumblr, which is also WolfGeralt : https://wolfgeralt.tumblr.com/post/190841973729/oh-fishmonger-oh-fishmonger-come-quell-your
> 
> ELABORATION ON THE TAGS AND WARNINGS CAN BE FOUND IN THE END NOTES.

The siren’s tail melts away in a viscous trail, the slender creature gasping as the gashes- _gills_ , Geralt realises- along his neck and lower ribs seal, and he starts to fill his lungs by panting through his open, desperate mouth. His gaze is stormy as the sea he belongs to, which begs the question of how the boy- how could a creature so fair and pure be a _monster?_ \- came to be at the bottom of a lake?

Uncurling from the protective ball he's drawn into, his thighs and calves trembling from disuse in their new form, the siren claws at the lakeshore, dragging himself towards Geralt. Even the Witcher isn’t fooled by the feral, craving attention pinned on him all too keen and sudden. The poor thing looks starved for something, for _Geralt_.

A haunting, ethereal melody washes over him, a balm to his weary soul where he’s not slept for... _too fucking long._ Geralt’s eyelids droop at the music that seems to carry the soporific hush that can be found inside the echo of a fresh shell when cupped to the ear. It’s enough of a lapse in judgment for the siren to strike, catching the dazed Witcher by the ankle and tearing his feet from underneath him. He hits the sandy bank of the lake hard, the breath knocked from his lungs for a moment as he stares up at rustling treetops and sky.

The siren drags himself over the Witcher, slick, featherlight, and strangely warm where he lays across Geralt’s chest, leaving his shirt damp and sticky. Where his fingers were once webbed and taloned, they now skim over the pulse of his neck and around the wolf medallion over his breast gracefully, where it remains oddly calm under the alleged monster's touch. Despite his alleged hunger, the creature means Geralt no harm. The siren moves again him lithely in gentle rolls like the cresting and falling of waves, nestled over the top of Geralt’s lap, grinding in steady, unhurried motions with sighs of song that make the Witcher’s head reel. He reaches for the siren cautiously, his hand sliding down skin that’s as soft as rainwater, his skin pale with the faintest touches of pinks and blues- veins he assumes- but it gives the impression of the silky walls of shells, or the skin of a pearl or a polished opal. The siren’s smooth as can be, powerfully muscled in the way dancers are, and lacks a cock where Geralt expected one.

“Will you feed me now that you’ve caught me? _Please_.”

Geralt’s vision swims if he tries to look away from the Siren, entirely mesmerized. There’s only one concern on his mind, as he takes a gentle hold of the siren’s hips as he rises up onto those unsteady knees, but his movements are growing with confidence.

"Yes." Geralt agrees, sounding desperate himself.

“Tell me your name.”

“Jaskier,” the siren purrs, his hands dealing with the leather breeches underneath his hips with practiced ease. “Let me hear it on your lips.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt groans as Jaskier draws out his cock, guiding it towards his hole, and presses it with a hiss inside himself, baring pearly teeth with a sharp set of canines as he sinks down slowly. He’s tight and warm, his hole clenching as hungrily as his song claims. He grinds his hips, almost appearing to float up and sink down effortlessly as he rides the Witcher, palms splayed over his chest, fisting in his own damp hair.

As the siren, Jaskier, loses himself to his ecstasy, rippling around Geralt, his whole body trembling with excitement, the Witcher realises he’s been fucking his hips up, unbidden, and finds himself finishing with a shout deep inside Jaskier. He pants and catches Jaskier’s eye as the siren grins down at him, all fangs and sheer glee.

“Ohh, you’re no mortal man, are you?” Jaskier’s eyes appear to cloud over and his hole squeezes greedily around Geralt’s cock still, urging him to give everything he can possibly manage. “I can smell it. I’ll bet you’ve never sired before now...” The siren coos, brushes a hand in a wider circle over his lower belly, looking so utterly pleased with himself.

“Sired?” Geralt’s certain it can’t be... yet he bites back a moan as his cock thrills at the idea. The siren laughs breathlessly, sitting there, looking down his impish nose down at Geralt. He looks so youthful but is perhaps older than Geralt himself.

“Come to me tonight. My hunger will only remain sated for so long while the moon is full,” the Siren explains rather serenly as he slips off Geralt, leaving him splayed out on the sandy earth, Jaskier pulls himself up by his arms over the rockery and dead roots of ancient trees towards the water. “I would very much like to have you again, tonight or otherwise, dear...” he looks at Geralt, where he’s pushed up on his elbows, his shirt damp and clinging to him, his cock wet with the siren’s release and hanging out of his leather breeches. It takes raised brows from Jaskier for him to realise what he’s waiting for. He tucks himself away and clambers to his feet as he fastens his clothing. He realises Jaskier's smirking a little as he watches his attempt to be proper with faint amusement, completely unphased by his own nakedness. Geralt drops his hands to swing by his sides.

“Geralt,” he says thickly, brain sluggish still. The Siren sizes him up thoughtfully and turns towards the waters again, swinging his legs around to dip his pointed, bare toes to ripple the surface of the water. He's longing to dive back in, Geralt can sense it, but he lingers for some reason.

“Geralt.” It sounds best on Jaskier’s charming tongue. “Until tonight, lover.” Jaskier turns to glance back over his shoulder, tossing the Witcher a wink before he slips off the dead tree back into the water. A moment later, the dark water breaks. Jaskier’s arms and head rise up as he leaps out the depths of the lake, followed in a smooth, flowing curve from his lithe waist all the way along a shimmering tail that moves between all shades across the spectrum of blue when the light catches it from certain directions. A flick of his newly grown, fanned tail sends water droplets in all directions, sparkling as they catch the light streaming into the forest lake grove.

Strolling to the periphery where the lake laps at the sandy ground at his feet, Geralt waits and wonders, almost hoping Jaskier will return soon. He watches for a while as fallen leaves glide across the undisturbed waters, the surface mirroring nothing but the trees and sky above, revealing nothing more about the mysterious creature that dwells below. When he comes to his senses, he knows he’ll have questions for Jaskier, but for a peaceful moment, he sits and tries to replay the sound of the siren's song in his mind. He can feel something settled in his chest and knows he'll sleep well until it's time to return to meet with his lover again.

**Author's Note:**

> Additonal note: This fic has a second chapter coming soon, and another will follow. Thank you very much for the love and support- I hear you and there will be more!
> 
> Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed, please leave kudos or a comment behind for me.
> 
> Written for Geraskier Week 2020, for the prompt 'Monster Hunting'.
> 
> Accompanied by this gifset on my Tumblr, which is also WolfGeralt : https://wolfgeralt.tumblr.com/post/190841973729/oh-fishmonger-oh-fishmonger-come-quell-your
> 
> \---
> 
> ELABORATION ON WARNINGS:
> 
> Jaskier is a masculine-presenting and identifying intersex siren, who when transformed into human form does not have a penis. This form allows him to have sex and be impregnated. I use the term 'hole' and leave descriptions incredibly vague in the hope of the fic being more accessible for those with dysphoria.  
> The non/dubious consent relates to Jaskier being 'hungry' and in heat, where he uses his siren song and charm to mesmerize Geralt for the purposes of having sex with the desire to be impregnated.  
> If you have any doubts about reading this due to any of the themes, please feel free to ask me questions before diving in. Take responsibility for yourself and take care!


End file.
